Beauty
by iBumbuum
Summary: And this is what has become of us


Beauty. It was the most elaborate prospect for our human eye to search for, yearn for, maybe. It was all that most would see, and all that most would know. For beauty in itself, was marvelous. Beauty is what drove us in the path of vain. Beauty is what also brought forth grieving, sorrow, _want_. Beauty was selfish. In most ways, people saw it as a spectacle-this beauty. Whether it was beauty from the outside in, or inside out. We _craved_ it. We wanted everything in our mind's eye to take on all aspects of _beauty_. Everything needed to be lavish, wonderful, extravagant. It needed _Beauty_. Was that all we ever truly pursued? The perfection. The joy. The absolute abundance. We _all desired it_. But with desire, came greed. With greed, came corrupt. With corrupt, came hell. And with hell, we all perished.

And that has what become of us.

But I did not seek this kind of beauty. I did not covet this small aspect of life. What I wanted, was delight. I wanted-no _needed_-this wonderful feature. I did not heed this beauty, I wanted no business in it's selfishness. Beauty or not, I wanted to live. Take in this lovely, vast space of _living_. Experience the astounding world among me, embrace it's unexpected turns and twists. Feel the miraculous nature that rested in every crevice of the earth. But that in itself, was a type of beauty. But one that did not carry the gluttony feeling. It was more unsullied. It was beauty without effort. The sun did not strain to rise, spill it's light over the immeasurable planet. The trees did not wrench itself from it's roots. The water did not fuss about the life beneath it's surface.

It was a different beauty. It was somehow, a mute tranquility. It something worth living for.

I watched the sea of people stroll passed me, and I watched with a silent wonder. The women would sway their hips maniacally and fondle with their falsely colored hair, the men would strain themselves to appear taller, pull their suits over their shoulders and try to seem more bulky. It was odd, though I did not comment. I didn't understand why people would want to look like something that they clearly weren't. Why didn't they take in and accept what they were so generously given? They showered themselves in plumes of perfume and cologne, they caked their eyes over and over with a dark kohl, or rubbed down their lips with color. It was this strained beauty. The one that made everyone fret and fix themselves in vain. Each person streaked passed, each with a different type of style. A different type of this _beauty_. To me, it was anything but. It was the desire of being accepted, but why lower yourself among everyone else with this so called _make up _and _hair dye_ and _lipstick_ and _perfume_. Was it so hard to show off what was naturally underneath? Perhaps, they were ashamed.

There was one thing I hated. Loathed, maybe. But it was for a reason only I could understand. I hated this _beauty_. I wanted to shred it into bits, show everyone what lied beneath. Why was it so hard for everyone to comprehend this? It seemed more to me like everyone was wearing a _mask_. And to them, if they took it off, they'd perish into nothing. But perhaps I am just being foolish. Maybe they _wanted_ this mask of difference. Maybe they didn't want to demonstrate their real selves underneath. It was frustrating.

Another woman flaunted passed me, carrying a large purse underneath her arm and a soda in the other. Her straightened hair bounced behind her, and I could tell just from the look of her that she was one of those with the mask. Her expression was determined, those kohl eyes narrowing, and her pink lips curling into a small frown. As she fluttered by, a scented smell wafted into my nose and I almost sneezed. Some kind of expensive perfume, I guessed. I watched her retreating figure with disgust and turned to observe the others in this monstrous sea of people. Again and again, it wasn't hard to seek out those with the mask. It was clear. It was as if they _wanted_ you to know they were hiding. With that, I scowled.

This was New York City. More than likely the main cluster of those with the strained beauty. They followed the media, pursued their actions and foul lifestyle. They wanted to be those pop-stars with flawless skin and perfected bodies. It was as if the media had somehow turned into the society god. They spoke, we heard. They did, we followed. They said, we obeyed. It was maddening! This corrupt, fake world was bringing forth more strain and more greed among everyone. Everyone _wants_. They did not care for what they need. Their life was absolutely based on this type of lifestyle. If you did not have the right clothes, you were looked down upon. If you did not have the correct style of makeup, you were laughed at. If you did not speak, act, or look like _them_, you were spat on. Was this how people really behaved? With my experiences, it was utterly confirmed. I wished I could do something to prevent this awful conduct which has captivated and brain washed everybody. I wanted to reach out and show them the _real_ way to live. Where there was no hatred, no rejection, no distress! But everywhere I looked, this awful behavior only spread. How could one single person out of _billions _of others change the whole world? It was much easier said than done. I could not observe any longer, for the sun was slowly sinking below the horizon and the city lights began to flicker and consume the streets. Of course, illuminating much more of the masks. But I did not linger much more on them, for I would surely sink in a puddle of pity. Sympathy was not uncommon as I watched them.

I wove in between the clusters of the crowd, shrugging off the light shoves of people and the rudeness of those I ran into. Instead of anger, there was forgiveness. Standing nonchalantly on the curb of the side walk, I waited patiently for the green light inside the box on the opposite side of the road to display WALK. I was paraded by a sea of people, all crowding and squeezing in around me as they waited. But I did not struggle or move away from them. I simply did not care for their proximity.

The light flashed green, and all at once, everyone made their way across the white lined pathway across the street. I rather liked this routine, though. I didn't really understand why, maybe it was the comfort of others around me. Others doing exactly the same as I. It did not make me feel claustrophobic like many would casually feel, instead, it was interesting. I followed the sidewalks home, not sparring any more glances and curious looks at those who strolled down the road in odd clothing and hair. It no longer actually made me stop and stare, because I knew it didn't matter where I was or what time I was there. The masks were everywhere.

But because it still infuriated me, I caught myself glaring at people from time to time. It was without thought. They did not notice, though. I kept my glares very distant and casual, not wanting to cast a vibe of hatred. Though it was clearly evident in every pore of my body. Why didn't these people _see_? It was an obscurity of what beauty truly was. Was it greed and false hope that led people into donning these masks? I could only sit and wonder. What was truly the motives behind it all?

The answer was this beauty. And it's what led us all into this cycle of hate and rejection. It was with this _desire. But with desire, came greed. With greed, came corrupt. With corrupt, came hell. And with hell, we all perished._

_And that is what has become of us._

_Beauty was truly selfish._


End file.
